


Said And Done

by Naemi



Category: The Faculty (1998)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Post-Invasion, Prompt Fic, Sadness, Unrequited Love, mention of terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:31:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naemi/pseuds/Naemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The air was still, and the smoke did not waft away, making Zeke feel trapped, increasing his anxiety for Casey to show up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Said And Done

**Author's Note:**

  * For [addie71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/addie71/gifts).



> Setting: post-invasion, future.

 

_I said I haven't told you anything,  
I hold it all inside in vain._

_[Papa Roach: Never Said It]_  
~~~

Zeke sat in his car, watching an endless crowd of students leave through the main entrance. Laughter and chatter floated in through the open window. The air was still, and the smoke did not waft away, making Zeke feel trapped, increasing his anxiety for Casey to show up.

If he was alone, he'd smile, jump into the car with a, “This seat taken?” and they'd head for Zeke's place where the rest of the day would fly by with computer games, pizza and sometimes, only when Casey was very insistent, a bit of homework.

If he was not alone, Casey would just give him a quick wave and Zeke would while away the evening at any given bar where he'd pick up a rather random someone to fuck and forget.

Today, Casey left the building hand in hand with Delilah. He gave his usual wave and smile as they crossed the parking lot, while she ignored him, leaving Zeke to the wish of destroying something beautiful.

He shook his head at his useless hope for this day being any different—better—than the last twenty-nine.

~ ~ ~

Party time at Stan's wasn't something Zeke anticipated. Not that anything was wrong about it in general; he simply wasn't in the mood. But ever since Marybeth his mood for everything was quite limited.

The only reason Zeke had forced his ass off of his couch was the faint glimmer of hope in catching Casey without his shiny new accessory, at least for a few minutes. The recurrent fight for his attention held some pathetic stubbornness, as Zeke was well aware, but truth be told, he missed his friend more than he could put in words, and on a level that was about to border on desperation.

It didn't even cross Zeke's mind to simply tell him, however, and thus he spent half of the evening watching Casey dance with Delilah, helpless to the jealousy that got hold of him, crawling just below his skin, just out of reach. Zeke took a sip of his beer, his eyes fixed on the happy couple as if to divide them by sheer willpower. 

His chance did not come that evening, no matter how many silent prayers he uttered.

~ ~ ~

Zeke lay awake listening to the raindrops falling down onto the rooftop in a happy little rhythm. Beside him, breathing lightly, slept his latest pickup.

At first, his own suggestion of going to his place instead of hers—or, as he often preferred, just have a quickie somefuckingwhere—had surprised him so much that, for a split second, he felt like literally standing beside himself. But then she had given him her brightest smile in response, and all doubting his own motives was chased away.

Now that he'd had her, now that his eyes wandered along her silhouette under the light blanket, realization came. Not slowly or gently, but very suddenly and so intense that it made Zeke shiver.

From the slenderness of her body, from the sweep of her lips, the curve of her cheekbone and up to the brightness of her ocean deep eyes—this girl, whose name Zeke had not even bothered to ask for, resembled Casey to a point of near perfection.

It was almost frightening.

She, who had no name, made a little movement in her sleep, brushing her arm against Zeke's chest. His inner turmoil seemed to pause at the soft touch, holding its breath, waiting for a decision.

Without wasting another bitter thought on ifs and buts, Zeke wrapped his arm around her waist, smiling happily as she, on impulse, nestled in closer.

If make believe was his best option, he'd go for it.

~ ~ ~

Days turned into weeks and then years that opened new pathways, and the past sank into oblivion.

Life had various challenges in store for Zeke, and he met them all with a seriousness that, although not unwelcome, he wouldn't have expected himself to ever develop.

Sally, who'd had no name at first, was there all along, and no matter how substitutional she once had been, their relationship had become something Zeke would defend with claws and teeth, if necessary. She was a rock, an anchor, transforming his unresolved craving for Casey into a strong love for her—slowly, with tender consideration and the patience of a saint. Although she never knew the full truth, Sally was clever enough to understand that she wasn't as much Zeke's world as vice versa, nor would that special place in his heart, occupied by his first true love, ever be given up, but she was content with what he could give her.

Zeke had neither seen nor heard of Casey in a few years when Sally, mentioning she wanted her best friend from high school to be her Maid of Honor, brought the wish to see him again before going that mile.

All of a sudden, the thought of voicing what once had haunted him was not only tempting but seemed a necessity. It didn't feel right to carry it into marriage.

If Casey was surprised about Zeke calling him, he didn't say, but he willingly agreed to meet and catch up on what they had missed.

Zeke hung up with a thoughtful smile.

~ ~ ~

“Wow. That's awesome news. Congrats then—though . . . it isn't actually a surprise, I s'pose.”

Casey's cheerfulness seemed sincere. Somehow, Zeke disliked it, without being able to tell why.

“Well, maybe not,” he replied slowly, hiding his face behind the cake menu. “Still, it's . . . kinda weird, innit? I mean, me getting married? Really? Come on.” 

“Why not?”

“I've never been much of a family person to begin with. In case you remember . . .”

“I do,“ Casey chuckled. “God, yes. But I guess there's that point in everyone's life where you just grow up, and sometimes that means to change a whole lot.”

Zeke peeked over the menu's edge, intrigued by the sudden seriousness in Casey's voice. Their eyes met, making it hard for Zeke to bite back the flood of words that his heart wanted to say. 

“How much did you change?” he asked, not quite sure he really wanted to know. Remembering Casey as he had been was precious to him, and realizing he wasn't the boy Zeke had once liked so much wasn't exactly promising—despite being aware neither of the boys they used to be still existed.

“Well.” Casey lowered his eyes, focusing on his coffee cup. “Not much, I guess. I still do the same things I always did, have the same views . . . like the same people . . .” He looked back up, meeting Zeke with a hollow smile, shrugging. “Nothing exciting to tell about adult Casey.”

Zeke lacked a reply. His stomach clenched at the intensity of his own resurfacing feelings. Albeit softened now, mere shadows of the teenage crush he'd had, they were still strong enough to dry his mouth and blush his cheeks, and it occurred to him, for the very first time, that what he had felt for Casey back then was so much more than what he had made himself believe. It hit him hard, taking his breath away.

“Never mind,” Casey added, as if reading Zeke's mind—and maybe, only maybe, he had not been as unaware as Zeke thought all along. Maybe, they had just never called a spade when they should have—either of them.

The waitress came to an involuntary rescue, and they didn't get back at any serious talking for the rest of that evening. Still, in an odd and comforting way, it seemed as if all was said.

~ ~ ~

Sally and Zeke got married on a hot summer's day. The ceremony was simple, but beautiful, the food was plentiful, and late that night, shortly before the newly-weds would make their leave, Zeke met his best man at the bar, sharing a moment of silent comfort.

“You know,” Casey said, raising his glass, “I couldn't be happier for you. You made the right choice. The only right choice.”

Zeke cocked his head to the side, not sure whether or not Casey was too drunk to understand the weight of his own words. He seemed sober, though.

“Honestly. Don't doubt it. Ever.”

“I won't.”

“Let's drink to it. To always doing what is right.”

Despite the urge to hug Casey, all Zeke did was raise his glass in response.

A year later, Casey would be their baby's godfather, and three years later, he'd be Zeke's greatest and only true support through hospital and surgery, chemo and hopelessness. He'd stand by his side at Sally's grave, back him up through all adversity. And in eight years' time, when the wounds had healed into faint scars, they'd raise their glasses on the right decisions again, on their own wedding day.

But since neither of them knew any of what was to come, they parted with restless hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Zeke feeling lonely post invasion.
> 
> Beta'd by the gorgeous AlienSoulDream and whipped into final shape by the wonderful Moit, who also made sure that all characters were returned unharmed.
> 
> _Feedback is love._


End file.
